


Duck, Duck, Goose!

by silver_drip



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Transformation, Cat Tony Stark, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 13:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18965860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_drip/pseuds/silver_drip
Summary: Five times Tony was a cat and one time he wasn't.





	Duck, Duck, Goose!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buying_the_space_farm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buying_the_space_farm/gifts), [Wolfloner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/gifts), [Slenbee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slenbee/gifts), [12AngelOfDarkness21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/12AngelOfDarkness21/gifts), [KasumiAFKGod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KasumiAFKGod/gifts), [dendrite_blues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendrite_blues/gifts).



> Thanks to JanecShannon for all their help!
> 
> This is for the FI mods! (Let me know if I missed anyone!)

1

"You just want to get me naked," Tony teased his fellow Avengers. They were all in the TV room, beers and snacks galore.

Natasha snorted. "Why would we want that? The photos of your mid-twenties show everything before it started sagging."

"So you have been looking." Tony waggled his eyebrows at her. "And I'm like wine— I only get better with age~"

Steve let out a long suffering sigh. "If you don't want to show us—"

"Oh, I do. Besides it would be unfair that Brucie saw it, and you all didn't."

"Don't drag me into this," Bruce said, but was smiling.

Clint slammed his fist on the table. "Stop teasing us and take it off!"

"Oh honey, if you think this is teasing then you ain't seen nothing yet." Tony gave Clint a lecherous look.

"What have you done?" Natasha deadpanned, looking at Clint like he was a mad-man.

Jarvis obligingly turned on strip club music.

Tony started dancing, hips rolling as he played with the hem of his shirt. Thor whistled in appreciation.

"Stop!" Natasha begged while covering her eyes.

"Said the lady who applied to SI with modeling pictures." Tony stuck his tongue out at her, before cueing Jarvis to cut the music. "I won't make you poor, poor things wait any longer." Tony took off his shirt, showing off his new false sternum and freshly healed skin. He ran his finger down the middle and to his belly button. "Smooth as a baby's bottom. I got it waxed just for the occasion." Tony paused. "Also, I demand body shots tonight. This new skin has sensation~"

"My brined chest doth glistens in the New York lights!" Thor shouted, taking off his shirt in solidarity.

"That's the spirit, Point Break!" Tony slapped him on the shoulder. "Everyone, touch my chest!"

Tony made he rounds, each person admiring his new chest.

"So, have you tried it yet?" Clint asked, saying what everyone else was thinking.

They held their breath before Tony broke the tension by smiling. "Damn right, Birdy! You better watch yourself!"

Clint scoffed, but they were all too focused on Tony to notice.

His shift was smooth, as if having the Arc Reactor hadn't prevented it for the better part of a decade. From one moment to the next he was a cat.

Dark brown fur. _Fluffy_ dark brown fur. Whiskers white and matching his feet. Pink nose and tufts of fur sticking out of his ears. Whiskey brown eyes, the same as his usual, but with slit pupils.

He pounced on the table. The Avengers oo-ed and aww-ed appropriately at his grandeur.

*

2

Tony and Bruce we're of a height. That would usually go unnoticed, but at the moment they were both reaching upwards to a bag of coffee beans—both falling short. Unfortunately, they were both in a science daze and too focused on their current project to think to grab the stepping-stool.

"I was a cheerleader, ya know," Tony said, eyes glazy. "Well, I dated a cheerleader. Her friends threw me in the sky one time."

"Hmm," Bruce rubbed his stubbly chin, corse grey and black hair rasping against his fingers, "ceilings too low."

Tony nodded sagely. "My reciprocating saw is charged."

"Steve said no DIY construction after the thing with the treehouse."

They were both silent for a moment, staring at the distant beans.

"J, start fabricating one of those claw-reachy things from that infomercial I like."

"Twenty-three minutes, Sir."

Both geniuses groaned.

"Too long," Tony said. Bruce slumped against him. "It's hopeless. This is how we die."

"Two geniuses and not a brain between you," Natasha said dully while entering the kitchen. She looked at Tony. "Don't cats like high places?"

Tony snapped his fingers together. "Brilliant! Why didn't I think of that?" He turned into a cat, hopped on to the shelf, and pushed the bag of coffee beans right into Bruce's waiting hands.

*

3

"You don't exactly inspire fear," Natasha said with a Cheshire grin on her face.

"Pfft," Tony practically spit his coffee, "at least I'm not a herbivore." Tony side-eyed Bruce. He was stirring his chai tea, a plate of toast (five slices) stacked up neatly in front of him. He ignored him.

"But Bruce looks terrifying," Clint added in, shoveling cereal in his mouth and speaking through it. "Dino shifters are rare. You can't tell he's a herby." A line of milk came out the side of his mouth. He wiped it away with his sleeve.

"You disgust me," Natasha said evenly. Clint stuck out his tongue, showing off his chewed food. Natasha rolled her eyes and turned back to Tony. "Fury wants a team picture now that you can shift again."

"Nope, not gonna happen. I'm going to keep my fine feline ass to myself." With the pompness that only cat-shifters could achieve he sipped his heavily creamed coffee.

"Pepper approved it." Tony slumped in his seat and hissed at her. "She thinks it will be good publicity for Stark Industries." Tony pouted. "She's hired your favorite groomer~"

Tony perked up, but kept his face aloof. "Fine."

*

Tony's fur was gleaming and perfectly fluffy. Natasha, in her snow leopard form, was in the same room, her deadly claws being buffed to shine.

Silently, Tony padded out to the photo staging area. Steve, always a sticker for appearances, looked resplendent in his wolf form. Bruce's scales were glossy with wax. He was bespectacled and reading.

Clint, their dumbass hawk, was hanging upside down on a rafter.

Tony scouted out the photo stage, ignoring the photographer.

Two hours later, the photoshoot was over. Tony was pleased with how good he looked.

*

4

"At least I don't have Brucie's dumb meaty fingers," Tony grumbled, glaring at the Jenga tower. It was almost two and a half times taller than when they began.

"You're just spoiled from playing Dum-E with giant pieces," Bruce rebutted. His face was flushed from the Brandy he was nursing.

"Tony, you're playing against super spies, an artist, and," Natasha squinted at Bruce.

"A yoga master," Bruce added.

"Right!" She pointed at Bruce with the hand she was holding her drink in. "He's a balance master. Jenga is child's play to him." Her nose was starting to get pink, the only clue that she was tipsy.

Steve had a jar of pickles eggs and was steadily eating them, like the disgusting man he was. They had sanitary hand wipes set out for his nasty vinegar fingers.

Clint was standing on his chairs, always seeing better from a distance. "Is the puddy tat having a hard time?" Clint mocked, not looking away from the game.

"Just remember what cats eat, Tweety-Bird," Tony remarked before grinning.

Tony shifted and as light as a feather stepped on to the table, he circled around it, keeping his swaying tail clear of it.

Surprisingly, none of the other Avengers called him out on it.

He found his target and brought his paw up slowly. In the smallest of batting motions he pushed the piece half way out then pulled it out the rest of the way with his mouth.

He set it down and took a step back to the couch—"Not so fast," Steve said, "You started this round as a cat and that's how you'll end it, no opposable thumbs allowed."

Tony hissed.

"Them’s the rules." Clint was grinning like mad. Natasha and Thor snickered.

Tony scrunched his nose, his tail flicking agitatedly.

"It's only fair," Bruce added. His expression was mild, but belied his humor.

Tony bared his sharp teeth, almost looking like he was about to sneeze. He sniffed the air imperiously before picking up the Jenga piece with his mouth. He stood on his hind-legs, tail trying to balance him. Just the tip of his pink nose reached the top when he was stretched out. He was so close.

A blow-horn went off and Tony shot forward into the Jenga tower, pieces going everywhere.

He shifted back, glaring at Clint who had his phone in the air and air-horn app open.

"That was bullshit! I demand a rematch!" Tony shouted while standing up on the floor.

Natasha held up the rule-book (more of a rule-pamphlet, really). There was a hint of a smile on her lips. "Read the fine-print, Stark. Making a move while shifted is against the rules."

Tony swiped the rule-book out of her hand, a feat that would usually be impossible due to her assassin speed. He hastily read it before pouting. "Fine, but next time we play stip poker, and Cap isn't allowed to sit it out!"

"Agreed."

Natasha and Tony went to shake hands, but Steve bodily moved between them. "Hey, now. He's the one who cheated. Why am I being punished?" He was giving the jugdey blue eyes that had absolutely no effect on them.

"Cap, we already agreed," Tony said, his eyes bright with mischief.

"Yes, a gentleman's agreement." Natasha's voice was pure sarcasm.

Steve let out a defeated sigh.

*

5

"Boo! Boo, Thor! Loser~" Clint jeered. Natasha joined in, causing the blond God's face to droop further into a frown.

"My friends, a bid from my father is never to be taken lightly. All matter of calamity could be afoot!"

"Aww, you're so cute when you worry," Natasha said while pinching Thor's cheek. (His face, not his rear.) "I'll make sure Tony doesn't try to steal your spot on movie night."

Tony squawked. "I _own_ this tower. They're all _my_ spot _."_ He shouldered past Steve (the captain not even budging an inch) with two freshly opened beers in hand. When he grabbed them was a mystery to the other Avengers. "This calls for a party!" He shoved a beer into Thor's hand.

Bruce groaned. "You think everything calls for a party." Despite his words he was heading to the bar to make his famous drink, the painkiller. The drink could even knock Tony on his ass.

"And I'm always right," Tony tacked on. "J, drop the needle." The music started. Tony was quite proud of the taste of music he instilled in his youngest son.

"Time to wet my beak," Clint joked, and they all groaned, having heard the joke a million times. He shifted then flew over to perch on Bruce's shoulder. Bruce obliged him and poured a shot of tequila and held it up. In a feat of both dexterity and idiocy he plucked it up with his beak and knocked it—spilling roughly a third on himself. Clint dropped it into Bruce's waiting hand then let out a shriek as his feathers stood on end.

"We still have to stay mission ready," Steve, always the wet blanket, said.

"Leave it to the Fantastic Failures." Tony waved off the issue. "Steve, Thor is leaving for an adventure. We might never see him again. We need to _bond_."

Steve looked mulish before Natasha sidled up to him, gripping his beefy bicep. His shoulders eased. "Alright, Jarvis, please give the Fantastic Four a heads up for me."

"Of course, Captain Rogers." Jarvis paused. "Ms. Storm gave the affirmative and, in her own words, will keep Johnny in line."

"Sue is a saint," Natasha said dully.

The blender went off and soon enough the party got really started.

Thor had a flask of his magical alcohol, adding a dash to his and Steve's drinks.

*

Tony was securely tucked under Thor's massive arm, leeching off his heat.

Thor had big tears in his eyes, trying to get anyone to join in with the hug. Natasha was by the bannisters of the party deck, looking at the people below.

Clint dive-bombed Thor, landing heavily on his shoulder and shoving his beak into Thor's long hair. "You are too kind, my friend." He petted Clint.

Bruce was doing his shuffling version of a dance, drink in hand. Of all of them, he was the only one who could jump into battle; transforming into the Hulk burned off all the alcohol in his system.

Steve was shifted and howling along to the music. It was a new form of torture.

"I will miss you all so much!" he blubbered.

"We'll miss you too, buddy." Tony patted him on the arm.

Thor sniffled. "I have wondered, Man of Iron," Tony perked up, turning a bit to see him. "Your people have this saying: 'A cat always lands on its feet'. Is this true of you?"

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "I get the feeling that you just want to cuddle me when I'm all squishy and soft."

Thor abruptly looked skyward. "I know not what you speak of."

Tony snorted and stood. Thor clapped his hands in excitement, and Tony shifted mid-eyeroll.

Thor scooped him up and rubbed his stubbled cheek against Tony's warm belly.

Despite himself, Tony started purring.

*

+1

Loki wasn't what any of the Avengers expected. Where Thor was golden hair and sun kissed skin, Loki was dark hair and pale skin. The only thing they had in common was their flair for armor.

He was also very aloof, reserved where Thor was bubbly and loud.

As the ridiculous everyday lives of the Avengers unfolded, Loki took things step by step, bemoaning how Thor would certainly make the situation worse.

At first, it annoyed the other Avengers, hearing him cut down their friend, but soon enough they could tell it came from a place endearing brotherly love. It helped that Loki started opening up, comparing their own exploits to his adventures on Asgard.

It became clear that he was usually the voice of reason in Thor's group of friends.

Loki and Bruce bonded over being practical, yet indulging in the little things. Steve and Loki sparred, equal in strength, but vastly different in technique. They also ran together some mornings with Steve in his wolf form. Natasha and Loki both had a love (fetish) for daggers, Loki seemingly having and endless supply of daggers, each having their own story.

Clint and Loki were at odds with each other, not from any kind of slight, but because they were just so different. Clint was a trash panda while Loki was a prim prince. Clint loved action movies while Loki only enjoyed movies that we're either cerebral or had a twist. Loki was quiet most often, where Clint always had to have the TV on in the background. They didn't know how to interact, but there was enough room in the tower for that not to be a problem.

Tony and Loki were doing an odd sort of dance, picking at each other, seeing what made the other tick. What made them angry or laugh.

On the battlefield, after a bit of adjusting, they all worked flawlessly together.

It was after one such battle against Taskmaster that they were all going to the TV room to watch a movie and relax.

By the time Tony got there, all the good seats were taken.

"The injustice of it all," Tony grumbled to himself as he stood in the doorway. "It's my damn tower... Beanbag chairs are so out of style."

"Your life is so hard," Loki said sarcastically, not even looking back at him.

Tony let out an annoyed huff and did as he had on many movie nights, he shifted.

On silent paws he padded across the carpeted floor then jumped on to the back of the couch. Loki turned to see the disturbance. He went white as a sheet and shot up, a dagger appearing in his hand.

He teleported to the other side of the room.

"Avengers, carefully move away from the beast," Loki said with his teeth clenched.

The non-shifted Avengers gave him confused and entertained looks.

"The monster is highly dangerous. It would be wise to heed my words."

Natasha followed his line of sight and smirked. "Do you mean Tony?" She picked him up under his arms and held him out. Tony was limp in her arms, belly exposed. He was used to the way he was manhandled. It usually led to cuddles. "Are you scared of his lil' pink toe-beans?" Natasha asked, using a baby-voice. "Or his jelly-belly? Maybe his cute little nose." She kissed the top of Tony's head. "He's a domestic cat," she said, speaking normally again. She readjusted him into her arms more comfortably. "He's a plush toy compared to the rest of us when we're shifted."

Tony yoweled in annoyance and pushed against her.

Natasha held on tighter. "Oh hush, you know it's true." They stared into each other's eyes before Tony's mouth starfished outwards into seven writhing tentacles. "Пиздец!" Natasha cursed while throwing him in the air.

Tony landed as a human, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.


End file.
